


The Lonely Main

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [48]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dead Castiel (Supernatural), Letters, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Polyamorous Pack, Relationship(s), Sexual Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 22:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21126512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: There are some things that's started to bother Dean, and some that are making him very happy. He shares his thoughts with the Alpha that will always be his number one.





	The Lonely Main

**Author's Note:**

> I've had the pleasure to be working with two wonderful Betas, one who's doing wonders for the readability of the text, and one who is giving me reactions and asking questions to make sure I don't dig plotholes and are inconsistent. <3 So a big thank you to Lisa and Melina for that!
> 
> I'm not sure if I need more tags here. Tell me if there's something I missed tagging for.

* * *

"We had a security breach on our server," Dean says, phone beside him on the bed, headset on his head. "Some fucking hacker poked around, locking our computers so we couldn't work." 

"_No! How come I haven't heard of it?_" Charlie demands, outraged. It's part of her new job description to see to it stuff like that doesn't happen. (And to spy on the competition, but that's very hush-hush.)

"Dunno, man. I asked the investigating officer if they'd caught the hacker. But apparently they hadn't, cuz the guy had ransomeware." Dean bites his lip in anticipation.

"_What do you mean, he ran? Was he in the build―_" Charlie falls silent suddenly. Dean presses his hand over his mouth not to laugh. He holds his breath at the dead hush while the punchline hits home, then bursts out laughing when Charlie groans. "_That was so bad, Dean. Why are we even friends?_"

"Shut up, I'm hilarious. Marlon laughed so hard Dolus jumped out of his lap and left in a snit."

Charlie chuckles. "The cat left the room because the joke was so bad, not because your mate laughed. I'd laugh at your lame jokes too if I was desperate to have you sit on my knot."

Dean tssks good-naturedly and changes the subject. "You coming to New York this weekend? I miss game night." Charlie got offered a position at one of their tech companies. It came with a substantial raise, but unfortunately meant she had to move to Silicon Valley. Now she's on the other side of the fucking country.

"No, I'm LARPing. Hey, you should come here and join in! We have this awesome steampunk setup. You’ll love it!”

Dean sighs wistfully. Charlie had told him all about Live Action Role Playing. It probably would be all kinds of awesome to dress up in weird clothes and pretend to be someone else. 

“Can I use ‘seduce’ while LARPing too?” he jokes. Charlie had also introduced him to Dungeons & Dragons, and he absolutely loved it. He’d been at every game night ever since...before Charlie moved out of town, that is.

Charlie sniggers. “You absolutely cannot! It drives me nuts when I carefully craft an adventure, and you ruin it by seducing every monster I throw at you.”

“Hey, you know what they say, fiction mimics reality,” Dean says with a smirk and waggles his eyebrows. Charlie laughs. Dean speaks up again. “Seriously, though. Marlon promised to take me to the estate on Saturday, so I can’t come. Rain Check?” It's the third time Marlon’s made this same promise, but so far something has always gotten in the way.

They talk for a few more minutes before they hang up. Dean gets out of bed and puts his phone on the charger. It’s just past midnight. Earlier tonight Mike and Luci had a hellstorm of a fight. Gabe said they do that a couple times a year and it’s nothing to worry about, so Dean took his word for it. It’s been quiet for a while now, and Dean can no longer deny his urge to check on them. Mike’s door is open and it smells of sex in the hallway. Dean pokes his head in to find Luci and Mike sleeping. They’re naked, lying wrapped around each other, foreheads pressed together, and purring softly in their sleep. All the lights are on and the blankets have been kicked onto the floor. The window’s open and it’s a bit chilly. Dean knows Mike likes the air cold and fresh while he sleeps, so he doesn’t close the window, but he picks up the blankets and drapes them over the sleeping pair, then shuts the lights off. He closes the door as he leaves. He could join them, but he thinks that after a fight like that, they need some alone-time together.

Next he goes to check on Sam. Gabe and Raff showed up at Sam’s work and Sam decided to come home with them instead of going back to campus. No matter how many times they’ve all told Sam he doesn’t have to work while he’s studying, he still picks up a couple extra shifts every month. 

Sam’s in his room with Gabe and Raff. They’re all fast asleep. Raff’s spooning Sam, both of them using Gabe’s belly as a pillow where he sprawls the wrong way across the bed. Sam’s got a loose grip on Gabe’s dick even in his sleep. It’s a weird quirk, but he does it fairly often. Why would you hold a dick when there’s a perfectly good tail _right there_? 

Dean smiles, heart getting all soft at the sight of them. He closes the door, leaving them to themselves. Sam sees his mates so rarely since he started college, he deserves some undisturbed quality time with them.

Dean goes in search of Marlon. He isn't in his office or bedroom. He usually goes on runs early morning so he should be home. 

Dean heads towards the apartment exit to go down to the gym to check, but picks up a fresher scent trail leading into the dark kitchen. He follows it. Furthest away in the kitchen there's light coming from the staircase up to Dick's floor. He can hear faint music coming from upstairs. Dick's usually someone who goes to sleep at reasonable times, so Dean goes to explore. He sneaks upstairs and stops with his head poking up over the edge of the floor. He can see the great room adjacent to Dick's suite. The lighting is muted, and hidden speakers play an old song about leaving home to be part of the city that never sleeps.

Dick and Marlon are dancing in the middle of the floor. They smell of sweat and contentment. They're dancing a slow, Conservative dance that to Dean appears just like a form of sophisticated hugging; one arm around each other, the other holding hands to guide the simple dance. Their flared gazes are locked, painting their faces with each red and purple. Their smiles show teethed canines.

Dean sinks down to lie on the stairs, only eyes poking up over the edge. His heart goes soft and warm all over again. Marlon and Dick's budding romance is a slow roast. While Mikey and Luci got mated to Dick rather quickly, and the bond to Raff happened as soon as the Alpha could smell Dick, Marlon is taking his sweet time courting Dick. Dean thinks they'll eventually get mated too, but if they land on something purely platonic in the end, what’s between them would be just as beautiful. It doesn't seem like it's where they’re going, though. Not with their warm smiles and tender gazes.

Dean asked Marlon if he plans to ask Dick for a mateship. He answered that time will tell. Right now, Dick’s had so many things happen so fast that he deserves something that takes time and gives him the power of choice and control. And Marlon wants to give the Omega everything he deserves. 

Dean's completely smitten with their budding romance. Any time he catches a glimpse of the pair interacting in private, he falls deeper in love with the both of them. As a couple, they have something beautifully tranquil about them. He thinks they might be as perfect for each other as Dean and Cas had been.

He stays and watches for several minutes before he descends the stairs as silently as he can, so as not to disturb the lovebirds. He knows from experience that if he’s noticed they'll invite him to join them, but he doesn't want to be the one to pop the bubble of blissful magic surrounding the pair.

He stands indecisive at the foot of the stairs for a full minute before he goes back to his room and sits down by his desk, shoving his keyboard aside so he can fit a paper on the surface, then begins to write the first thing that pops into his head.

“Heya, Cas!

How are you doing? I’ve taken for granted that you followed me here and are now running with the Williams pack just like me. But yesterday I got struck with the thought that perhaps you stayed with our old pack. I know it’s ridiculous, but I went into a full-on panic. Papa had to calm me down. He said that with love as strong as yours and mine, there’s no doubt you followed me.

I feel it in my heart that he’s right, and I feel fucking silly about the freakout.

I've been thinking a lot about sex lately. I know what you're gonna say; when am I not, right? Yeah, yeah. I know. But you and I talked about bringing another Alpha into our mateship, and some days I wish we'd gotten the chance. Not because of the sex, but because of how love multiplies when it’s shared. I would have given my right arm for the chance of giving you the experience of loving more people. Maybe _you_ coulda been the one to take a second mate? Seeing Sam and Dick receive affection from our shared mates brings me as much satisfaction as when it’s directed towards me. Seeing them being in and falling in in love, melts my fucking heart.

You know my mates pretty well by now, either from watching them or reading my letters. They’re all very different lovers. Raphael is kinda funny. He’s like two different persons altogether depending on whether he can smell us or not. Normally, he’s very put together, even when we make love. But when the boys or I are in Heat? Phew! You know that movie Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? Yeah, I know, I hate it. It plays on the bullshit myth that we become feral monsters who can’t control ourselves when we display our Primal features. Which is completely fucked up and untrue! Only, with Raphael, it kinda is? I think it’s because he only ever gets these tiny glimpses of what we smell like. Everyone else learns how to read and relate to scent while growing up, but Raff only ever had these short windows of time when he could scent, and only then if he was around an adult in Heat or Rut, which hardly ever happened. I mean, these people are rich, Cas. Almost everyone uses suppressants in his world, so how many times has he ever really even had that opportunity? You get what I’m sayin’? So when we’re in Heat, or Luci’s in a Rut, Raff is the most feral lover you can imagine, and I fucking love it.

Gabe, on the other hand, is a hoot in bed. He's up for anything with loads of enthusiasm. And I can't say this often enough but I fucking adore his tail! But… I don’t know how to put words to it. It’s as if sex isn’t that important to him? Like, it is, but not like for any of the other boys. He’s like, “Hells yeah, I get to knot my mate!” but at the same time he’s like “Hells yeah, I get to snuggle on the couch with my mate and eat Doritos!” And those two things hold equal value to him. It’s not something he’s said out loud, so I can’t know for sure, but he’ll smell just as satisfied after sex as he does after snuggling, or doing something else one on one. As if sex is just one of many equally satisfying bonding experiences. I think it’s awesome. I mean, I can’t relate, but it’s awesome. I think he’d drive you crazy if you got to know him. He’s such an incredibly intelligent man, but he buries it so deep and hides behind a clown mask to the point where he sometimes outwardly belittles himself. That’s what would stress you out.

Mike is the least Primal in bed. It's like he's adapted Progressive lovemaking to include flaring and teethed canines. He's also romantic. Don't get me wrong, he can fuck rough same as the rest of them. But if he has time and we're alone, he'll light candles, strew rose petals, and take his time. He loves to kiss and can do that for hours. He's the opposite of Gabe. I said sex as a bonding experience isn't important to Gabe, right? But it might be _the_ most important thing to Mike. If he could spend his entire life knotted inside of someone else (or vice versa), he'd be a happy camper.

Luci, as you know, is very Primal in the things he does. That, to no one’s surprise, includes sex. He never really goes feral, though. I would have thought he did if I hadn’t amassed the experience to tell the difference. I sometimes worry about him. He’s the most Alpha Alpha you’ll ever meet, but he’s so incredibly insecure underneath. I don’t know where that insecurity comes from. I think, perhaps, it's from growing up with parents living in a toxic relationship? He's got the most kickass sense of smell just like Sam. He's bound to have smelled all the emotional turmoil underneath the happy surface. And as a kit, he wouldn't have known how to deal with it. So maybe he tried to be the best he could in hopes of making his parents happy, but, since he wasn't the problem, he couldn't fix it? Or maybe he smelled Marlon's constant anxiety and simply adopted it? Heh. Look at me rambling like I know what I'm talking about. I don't. I was watching a documentary about kit psychology while sitting between Raff and Dick. They kept up a running commentary, and that's what got me thinking. You know, because Marlon always says he and Chuck were happy together, but the more details he lets slip, the more it sounds like he was in denial about how miserable he was. Like, he wanted love to be enough, but it isn’t, right? The same way loving Peter and Crowley wasn’t enough for Dick. Crowley and Dick still have a beautiful friendship. And I think comparing the way Crowley and Dick love each other, and how Chuck and Marlon loved each other, really highlights the difference between good lovin’ and bad lovin’. In Crowley and Dick’s case it’s “I love you so much I’ll let you go if it’s what it takes to see you happy.” But in Chuck and Marlon’s case it was “I love you so much I’d rather destroy you than allow you to leave.”

Speaking of Marlon. He’s by far the most creative of my mates. There's almost nothing he won't do. Thankfully, the things he dislikes are the same things I don't like much either. Either that, or our likes and dislikes fit together. Like, if I can choose between being on top or being knotted, I'll choose being knotted. Which is good, because Papa hates taking it up the ass. He has, though. Few things are hard no's for him. Also, I don’t like to give orders in bed, and Papa hates taking them. I don’t mean “Fucking put it in already!” I mean, like, “Get on your knees. Don’t talk unless spoken to.” Stuff like that. 

Just like I told you about how Mike loves to give gifts, so does Papa.

My favourite gift from Marlon is something he keeps, and lets me borrow as a reward. At least, that's how I see it. It's a simple collar in brown leather with a bronze tag inscribed with '_Property of Marlon Williams_' on one side and ‘_Dean Winchester_’ on the other. 

When Papa wants to play he'll put it on his desk in his office at home or in City Hall. When I enter the office he'll keep working as usual, not acknowledging the request he put forth in any way except smelling excited and anxious. If I'm not in the mood I'll pretend not to notice. (Hey! It _could_ happen!) If I am in the mood (most of the time), I'll put the collar on and Marlon will look up at me with eyes on fire and issue an order. Sometimes I'll be a rebellious brat, because, why not, right? But sometimes I'll scramble to obey. One of my favourite things is when Papa pulls out the bottom desk drawer without a word, and takes out the pillow he’s begun keeping there. He'll throw it on the floor under the desk, right between his legs. Even if I had intended to be bratty, I can't resist slinking under the desk. Cas, I’m telling you, cockwarming is a thing. A thing I enjoy more than I’d ever expected to. Sitting there until my knees ache, my feet fall asleep, with drool dribbling down my chin because swallowing might make Papa hard. That's the point. To _not_ make him hard. Heh. It's fucking strange, but I love it. After a while on my knees like that, I find a calm center where my mind goes blank and time ceases. It’s akin to the calm feeling I get when I let someone knot my mouth. But not exactly the same, right? There’s no surrender in getting your mouth knotted. Then you just wait until the knot goes down. But keeping a dick in your mouth for an unknown period of time while keeping it flaccid? That’s a challenge.

So you know we dabble in the whole BDSM thing? I've told you about it before. We're making it up as we go, but we're not total idiots. Both of us have looked it up on the internet, and there are a bunch of great tips and guides. We tried something called the traffic light system. You're supposed to say a colour that signifies how you feel about what's happening, right? Yeah, that didn't work for us. We're both dumbasses with a tendency to push ourselves to the limit. That meant we waved off the yellow stage and when we plunged into the red it was too late to say words. Luckily, both Papa and I have it ingrained in us to tap out, and to instantly stop when someone else taps out. I guess I can thank dad's rigorous hand-to-hand combat training for spicing up my sex life, huh?

Papa and I watch porn together for inspiration too. Anytime either of us asks ‘Do you like that?’ and it’s answered with ‘I don’t know’ we put it on our to-do list. 

I like porn, but there are a few things that make me uncomfortable just watching. Derogatory dirty talk. Watching clips where they say “You’re such a slut for my knot,” is fine, but “Fucking knotslut, good for nothing but getting your holes stuffed,” isn’t. It makes me nope out hard. Luckily, Marlon is the type that prefers to worship his partners. He says he’d have no problem spewing such filth if it turned me on, but he doesn’t enjoy it and he says talking like that would be lying for him. Must be, right? For someone who _needs_ to have strong feelings for his partner to want to “poke his penis in”, it’s the logical conclusion that he’d respect us by default.

Another thing that makes me uncomfortable are videos where the O is somehow open to be knotted by anyone. There was this video where a naked, blindfolded O stood outside facing a wall, bracing herself against it with her legs spread wide, leaking slick. Any Alpha walking by could do what they wanted to her, and it grossed me the fuck out like you wouldn’t believe! My instinct was to find her and protect her from all the unworthy Alphas who dared lay hands on her. 

There are a lot of videos like that, bound and blindfolded Os letting anyone fuck them. In one, the O gave a short interview before she got started to show she was into it. Then she sniffed a little container that Papa said held something akin to the chemical at the DMV so she wouldn’t be put off by anyone’s scent. It was so abhorrent, I had to shut down the tab and rant about it while watching funny-cute videos of pets on YouTube. I simply can’t believe any O would ever be into that! Like hell it isn’t just some fantasy targeted at inferior Alphas who can’t get laid any other way. Can you imagine letting just anyone touch you??? I shudder to think of it.

Papa had the audacity to laugh at me and tell me many Os wouldn’t believe a high ranking O like myself would be into getting my hands tied behind my back, my ass spanked ‘til it glows, and my mouth fucked until I choke while my Alpha uses a collar to steer the BJ. 

I totally didn’t blush when he described the stuff we do with words. Totally didn't, okay, Cas? (You know I did.)

To find pelted porn you have to search out suspicious and obscure homepages where anyone un-pelted have their faces hidden or pixelated. There’s a small Progressive sub-category of pelted porn, called pet porn, that has me in a flying rage ready to murder every Prog in existence, momentarily forgetting that Charlie and Bartholomew are Progs too. Finding that category really hammered home how much context matters. I like it when Marlon calls me ‘pet’. He says it like I’m something precious in those moments when he’s at his softest, with every remnant of ‘Big Strong Alpha’ shaved away. Early mornings, after nights when he’s managed to get a full night’s sleep, he’ll blink his eyes awake drowsily and draw a little hitched breath as if he’s surprised to see me there. Then, he’ll smile the softest, most open smile and mumble ‘Good morning, Pet,’ with every muscle so relaxed there’s barely a trace of the wrinkles on his face. Or if I'm making breakfast before everyone is awake, he’ll come into the kitchen with his feet still bare, his eyelids heavy, his hair all mussed up, wearing only a pair of PJ pants and scratching his bare chest thoughtlessly. He’ll slink up behind me by the counter, rest a hand on my waist or hip, nuzzle my hair and say ‘Hey, Pet,’ so so softly. I love it. It signifies my mate at his most calm and content. 

Those porn videos? The total opposite. Either they have the pelted partner leashed, crawling around on all fours like a well-trained pet you can fuck, or chained up and caged like a wild animal you can fuck. It makes me sick to my stomach since it perpetuates the dehumanizing narrative Progs push about us Primals. That we're nothing more than animals. 

I got no objection to that same type of scene if nobody’s shifted, though. Papa forced me to define why, and it's all about the perception of the participants, right? A Prog keeping a shifted Primal as a pet means the Prog legit sees them as an animal, while two unshifted people start on an even footing and play pretend, even if one of them has the other on a leash.

It’s not just sex, what me and Papa do. It’s developing trust and coming to conclusions about ourselves. For one, I'm starting to realise I have issues. A lot more than I thought. I'm not quite sure what they are yet. I just get a feeling that there’s something wrong in certain situations, but it’s coming from inside of me. In the moment, I push through, which is a flaw Papa and I got in common. You know me, Cas. I got this need to give all I can to make sure my loved ones are happy. Papa's the same. We'll both put up with too much if we think the other likes it. It's counterproductive. It means we don't tap out when we should and we go flying over hard limits into a damn code black. It's happened to Papa once and me, what? Four? Five times? (Yeah, I know. I’m an idiot. Wipe that frown off your face.)

Papa suddenly curled into a ball cheeping like a little kit, no longer in the present. The parent in me kicked in, soothing him like I soothed Sam as a kit, right? The problem is Papa can't remember what set him off, and I saw no warning signs. It sucks. I don’t want it to happen again, but to my recollection we did something we’ve done loads of times before with no problem. We’ve even done it several times since then and it went great. So how the hell can we avoid a trigger if we don’t know what the trigger is? 

According to the websites I looked at, some of the things we do are called ‘scenes’ or whatever. All the sites I’ve read talk about discussing scenes beforehand, having clear and concise boundaries for when a scene begins and ends. Aside from when Papa puts the collar on his desk, we don't have a clear line like that. We're fairly good at talking it through afterwards, and we take care of each other, but we weave in and out of scenes with no warning. So, yeah. We probably shouldn’t do that. But it’s part of the charm, you know? I _like_ the surprise. All those know-it-alls on the Internet can go fuck themselves.

Wow. That got long. Heh. 

Oh, if you’re wondering why I haven’t written about “_him_” again while writing about sex? You guessed it. He’s still refusing to fuck me. Being his big ‘ol furry, teasing, jackass-self.

Anyway, I miss you, Cas. I miss you so damn much. I’ve got five mates, and I love them to death, but they’ve got damned big shoes to fill. What you and I had was perfect. No one can top that. I will always miss you. But, you know… I never thought there would come a day I’d tell you this, but… I don’t think I _need_ you anymore? I don’t know anything about the afterlife. Does it cost you energy to come visit? Is it painful? I still sense your presence sometimes. I love your visits, and you’re always, _always_ welcome. Don’t you ever doubt that! There won’t come a day in this life or the next when I don’t want you near! But I no longer need you to hold my hand through the veil to be able to get through my days. You get what I’m saying, right?

I’m happy. I have good days and bad days like everyone else, but I’m no longer looking forward to the future only cuz every day takes me a day closer to being reunited with you. Instead, I’m looking forward to the future out of genuine curiosity for what will happen tomorrow.

It’s taken me this long to embrace life like I did when we shared the same plane of existence. I know you’re happy to hear that. That’s all you wanted for me once you realised your time was running short. Well. I’m there now. So if it is somehow painful for you to curl around me on the nights I sleep alone, don’t feel obligated to do it. I’ll be fine. (Not the Winchester Fine™ but really, actually fine.) I’ll keep writing you letters as usual.

So until next time,

Love you always, your Dean

Xoxoxo”

Dean takes an envelope out of his top drawer, writes Cas’ name on it, puts the letter inside, then goes to the kitchen to salt and burn it. Once done, he goes back to his room, puts his desk back in order, then spins his chair around so he can stretch his legs out and look at his room. The fake fireplace burns merrily, flames slowly shifting through the colours of the rainbow. The room is meticulously clean, but borders on cluttered due to all the art and the figurines he's collected since he discovered Etsy.

Dolus is a good sport about Dean’s collection. He'll gently weave his legs to avoid nudging any of them as he walks across the shelves. Unlike one of the cats back home, Roy, that considered it a game to displace anything unattached. It didn't matter how much they played with him. Bored cats will do shit like that, but Roy wasn't understimulated, he was just an ass. He was demoted to full-time outdoor cat which he actually seemed to prefer (he slept in the barn). Eventually, he decided to move in with a Conservative couple who lived a bit closer to town. Dean heard the Omega complain to a friend about the cat breaking stuff, but the complaint was followed by an anecdote about something cute the cat did, so apparently Roy was well loved in his new home. So all good.

Dean loves his room. He can't believe it had caused him such anxiety before he picked it. It's actually kinda funny since Sam moved in with such enthusiasm but he hasn't decorated his room at all. On the wall he put up a photo of dad, and one of Dean and him, as well as a print out of Adam and Bobby. That's it. The rest of his room is utilitarian. He has a bookcase full of books. About half of them are from their library because he doesn’t return them before starting a new book.

Dean's room gives him a sense of satisfaction. Right now he's feeling content. His family is happy. 

He gets up, gets undressed and crawls into bed. He uses a remote to shut off all lights except for the fireplace. He tries to sleep, but after a while the loneliness creeps up on him. He knows he'd be welcome to join anyone in the household. He could crawl into bed with the sleeping ones, and they'd adjust to let him in. If he doesn't want to sleep, he could join the pair upstairs. But it would slow down the budding romance between them, and Dean doesn’t want to be responsible for that, especially since he thinks they might be as well matched as he and Cas were. He’s not gonna be the one to deprive his mates of that kinda happiness.

Sam always says Dean doesn't know how _not_ to be a Main. Dean's starting to get what he means. He doesn't know how _not_ to prioritize the rest of the pack. Even when it makes him feel lonely. Marlon’s the same. He's spent all those years since Aiden died being lonely.

These days it's rare that they're all at home at the same time. Dean had thought that was just how it always had been—it sucks, but if the boys had always worked overtime and flown cross-country on business trips, then he figured he should just suck it up. But...today at work, Bartholomew complained about the vastly increased workload. He'd sniped at Dean to tell his mates they needed to employ more people. So Dean had gone to Dick and Raff and passed on the message and they started the process of hiring more workers without a fuss. Which, Huh. That can only mean the workload actually has increased since the pack merger. Dean's not sure why. He told the boys he trusted them to make any company decisions and he only needed to be consulted on pack related issues. But this is a grey area since the pack being gone from home all the time is a major pack issue, even if it’s the job causing it. He’s not sure how he feels about it. He’s lonely a lot more than he likes. On the bright side, however, since only one or a few members are at home on any given evening, they usually focus their attention on him. On the other hand, he feels like he should take a step back so his mates get more alone time with Sam and Dick. But he also wants to spend more time together as a pack. Do stuff together.

Maybe he's blowing things out of proportion. But when everyone works late or travels they’re just so tired when they get home. And he wants to _do_ things.

That's how he knows he doesn’t need Cas anymore, that he can let him go if that's what Cas needs. There’s a spark re-awakening in him that’s been missing since he lost Cas. He’s been motivated by survival and the need to care for his loved ones, but now he’s started to want to _do_ things for his own enjoyment. He’s regained a certain curiosity and enthusiasm he didn’t fully realise he’d been missing until it came back. Fuck, but he misses Cas either way.

Suddenly, he feels it...a ghost touch and the sense of an all-is-well purr from his lost mate.

Cas is here. He's read the letter and chosen to stick around. Chosen to stay with Dean. The relief of it is so palpable Dean relaxes, his purr syncing with that of his long-lost beloved mate. 

Soon after, he falls asleep.

* * *


End file.
